


And How You'll Scream

by msmaj



Category: Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:52:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8439256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmaj/pseuds/msmaj
Summary: Mars Investigations is hired to look into investment for a friend. Is it worth the killer price, or is far more going on than meets the eye? Inspired by all of best (worst) things about horror films in honor of my most favorite time of year. Happy Halloween (Blessed Samhain)!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had intended for this to be done, but, you'll just have to bear with me. At least I got it posted on Halloween, so there's that :) After watching one too many bad horror movies this year, and every year really, I decided to write one of my own, with some of our favorites...so please please please, tell me what you think!
> 
> As always, so many thank yous to my fabulous beta and friend, Bond, whom I would be a wreck without. Literally.
> 
> And to irma66, for her beta skills as well as the encouragement and conversation that was really the catalyst to this, thank you.

Thursday

“This is it?” Logan’s haughty voice reverberated off the windows as the car came to stop in front of a large, ramshackle building. Veronica looked at him incredulously, pinching the bridge of her nose as she watched him deflate. This man, who could live on floating, tin can with thousands of other people couldn’t stomach the idea of anything under four stars whilst vacationing.

You can take the rich boy out of SoCal… She pushed open the door and hopped down, eyes rolling at her boyfriend and his dramatic antics. 

“According to the GPS, yes, this is the place.” The fallen leaves crunched under her boots as she moved closer to the building. Logan leaned against the passenger door of their rented Acura, looking unimpressed.

The once white lodge was now the farthest thing from. Various stages of decay marred the facade; chipping paint, missing shingles, shutters hung askew from nearly every window. When the wind blew the house creaked and moaned. The house alone was enough to make Veronica question everything about her decision to take this job. 

“I can’t believe Dick wants to buy this place,” Logan said, suddenly at her shoulder; she jumped as his breath hit her neck. 

“Dammit, Logan!” she rasped. He chuckled low, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. 

“Seriously though, this place is The Overlook meets the actual Stanley Hotel meets Bates Motel.” He shuddered dramatically against her. “There’s no way Dick thinks this is a smart investment—it’s just, creepy.” His voice shook as a chill ran through him and trailed off as his hands slid from her waist, down her hips, pulling her flush against him.

She pulled away, a wry grin on her face as she turned to face him. “Aw, cold Echolls? Think I can keep you warm tonight?”

“If you think, for one second, that I am sleeping in that...you are the fuck out your mind.” 

“ _Moi?_ ” Splaying her hand across her chest, she batted her lashes and mirrored naiveté like an art. His nose scrunched as he smiled warmly at her, she couldn’t help by reciprocate in kind enjoying the moments of pure ease that always seemed to evade them in their youth. “What happened to my sexy, brave, naval-aviating boyfriend? He’s not scared of the empty old hotel, is he?”

“Yes. Yes, he is. Come on, Veronica, you made me watch way too many cheesy horror movies to think this could be a good idea. Besides, I know that beneath that rough-and-tumble exterior is a girl who jumped every time Samuel L. Jackson got eaten by that shark.” She narrowed her eyes and his smirk only grew. 

“Yes, because genetically engineered sharks are actually scary. Old, abandoned buildings in the middle of the woods on the far side of Appalachia,” she paused, shaking off the feeling that someone was watching as she climbed the porch steps, the wood creaking, giving far more than it should with her light gait. “Not scary at all.” 

Reaching for the doorknob, she felt Logan hit the porch behind her. “If you think I’m staying out here alone, you really are crazy. Although, it might actually be me if I’m going into this tomb willingly.”

“What if I can make it worth your while?” Before he could form a response, she was inside the building, hips sashaying with every step further away.

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Mars.” He rushed in behind her, his speed indicative of refusal to be left alone in the woods. It’s not like he could be scared or anything; Logan Echolls is a damned Naval officer, the kind who flies fighter jets over enemy lands, who had lived through the scariest things any imagination could drum up. She’d seen it. Lived on its periphery until the implosion swallowed them all. No, not scared. Just, unnerved. We both are. 

Veronica shook her head, attempting to clear whatever tried to be settling behind her eyes.“Jeez, Echolls, you’re moving like molasses in January, come on! We’re burning daylight, there’s a whole lot of creepy and kooky and all-together-spooky we still have to check out.”

“You’re really building the case for me to go back into that podunk hamlet and find a room at the not-slasher inn. A single.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling a flashlight from her bag she walked through the first set of doors on her right. Logan was only a few steps behind her, incessantly muttering under his breath about having not agreed to this. It didn’t help that she still felt like someone was watching them; she’d see a flurry of movement in a window or a shadow that shouldn’t quite be there, but she never seemed to find where they came from. Logan’s nerves were starting to wear hers. Not that being on the edge of mountain country at the Wrong Turn Inn was something she actually wanted to do per se, but Dick had asked nicely and offered to pay her handsomely to help him research the properties, document anything that may be untoward, convince him that it’s a worthwhile investment. Something about prices being too...everything was just ‘too’ he had ‘mostly good vibes’ but it seemed just a shade off. So when he’d offered a long weekend away for everyone, she folded. The mountains in autumn, friends, best friends, loves—yeah, she’d been looking forward to it.

“What kind of person wants to vacation somewhere that’s this fucking cold in October?” He ran his hands up and down his arms, as if to emphasize his point. Veronica just rolled her eyes. 

“This could be someone’s dream destination. A glass of brandy next to the hearth. Enjoying a fancy, imported cigar in the smoking lounge. Gourmet meals delivered to your own, private cabin on the mountainside, sigh. To be fabulously wealthy.” He smirked and shared a small, secret smile with her. She turned away, flashlight shining down a long hallway lined with doors, most barely hanging on their frames, flapping open with the slightest movements as they made their way through. 

There were quite a few times she was sure she’d seen things in the rooms but she’d sufficiently talked herself out of it. Like she had in the foyer. Just a trick of her eyes, that Logan also seemed to be reacting to. She could feel the tension roll off him as she rounded back to the front of the house, the stairs daunting and bleak as they stood at the bottom.

“Ready to pick our room?” She winked and started up the stairs swiftly, not wanting to be stuck on them too long. Three, or maybe four, steps from the top she felt a hand close around her ankle, abruptly stopping her ascent. She froze, Logan on the step beside her looked concerned.

“Hey, what is it?” He took her by the elbow and helped her the rest of the way up. She shook off the feeling of fingers wrapping around her skin, nails biting her flesh and allowed Logan to support her as they made their way into the first room at the top of the stairs. 

It was presumably a bedroom. The furniture was skeletal—a few chairs, a bed frame, what was left of a vanity were scattered around the room. She swore she could still feel something on her, even as Logan held her close she couldn’t quite shake it. And she knew he had been affected too, shaking himself as he tried to keep her calm.

“We’re not sleeping here tonight,” she blurted out when her brain was able to form words again.

“No shit, we’re going back into…”

“No, like, that was never the plan. This is just ONE of many buildings Dick is interested in buying, and personally, I’ll feel a lot better checking this place out with reinforcements.”

“Oh thank God, Veronica,” he sighed, relief flooding his features. “Because, you know I would do anything for you, right? But this was pushing it.” She laughed and kissed him, explaining the cabins Dick was also possibly acquiring and how they’d be staying in one of them. Logan’s renewed enthusiasm for their weekend away literally carried them back down the stairs and out the door. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he struggled to get her into the car, both too preoccupied with each other to notice the two sets of eyes watching from the room they just vacated. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -

“This is much more my speed,” Logan said as the large wooden door swung open to reveal the interior of the posh hunting cabin. There were two bedrooms on the first floor, bathrooms for each, a kitchen, small office and a great room, with a vaulted ceiling and a stone fireplace that nearly took up the entire back wall. Veronica ran up the stairs, jubilant, as she spun around in the middle of the expansive loft. Windows from floor to ceiling, even skylights, it was like being in the middle of the forest without having to actually be outside. Logan had followed her up the stairs and gone into the master suite, falling onto the plush bed thoroughly tired from the day. Veronica poked her head in to tell him she was going to make something to eat, and he nodded against the pillows. 

He heard her walk back down the stairs and forced himself up. The bathroom in the master suite had a magnificent shower with walls he couldn’t wait to press Veronica up against. Or just use. His lips quirked up into a smile as he thought about how she’d acted on the plane that morning, how she had relented her fight against first class when she realized how much more accommodating their bathrooms were for lascivious activity. Feeling the need to cool down, Logan bent over the sink turning the faucet full blast, water splashing against his face. He caught a reflection in the mirror that wasn’t his. 

Only it had to be his. He was the only one up there. Counting to ten with his eyes closed, he wiped away any vestiges of water from his face before looking back at the mirror. Only him. With one last attempt to shake off whatever was lingering in his bones, he went to join Veronica for dinner. It dawned on him, he’d never done well in the woods, maybe that’s all it was. In reality, he had always found his peace in the ocean, not so much on terra firma. Not until Veronica had come back but it had, of course, taken a fucking nightmare for that to happen. Couple that with his subsequent deployment and all they seemed to have were scant months, trying to learn how to be together without actually getting to be. 

It had been too long since they’d spent any time alone. In Neptune, they were always splitting their time with her dad and friends, and since he had started his shore duty in San Diego, that time also included his Navy buddies. The thinly veiled innuendo was stripped down to its bare bones, both pushing the envelope, testing and teasing to see how far they could go without either breaking and taking the other right there on the table.

Somehow they made it through the meal, and as far as getting the dishes to the sink before Veronica dragged Logan into the living room, pushing him against the back of the sofa, her knees sliding down on either side of his hips. Her lips trailed scorching kisses down his neck, fingers aflame running over every inch of his body. His eyes threatened to roll back in his head but before he could lose himself in sensation something caught his attention. Was that a face? Is this just a feeling? Fuck the woods.

Regardless of where his head was, Logan’s body reacted appropriately, his nimble fingers sliding under the hem of Veronica’s shirt, removing it so quickly their bodies barely separated. He had his hand on the clasp of her bra when—

“Dude!? What the hell?” Logan pushed the Great Dane off the couch, but not before the aptly named Harlequin licked a slobbery trail up his face. Veronica’s eyes, saucer-wide and mortified, scanned the room for her discarded shirt. 

“Now, now Ronnie-kins, don’t cover up on my account.”

“Dick, why did I think you wouldn’t be joining us for this endeavor? Oh, right, you told me you wouldn’t. I had kind of banked on that fact for my enjoyment.” She barely got the fabric over her head before Dude was back, trying to settle between Logan and Veronica. 

“Play nice, Bobcat, he is a paying customer.” Logan breathed a quiet sigh of relief. 

“That’s right, Rons. Not that I don’t know you totally love the D,” he paused and winked at Logan. “I just figured you were taking all the cool people out of Neptune; I should be along for the ride.”

He clapped his hands together as he stood in front of the frustrated couple. Logan couldn’t help but smile, and when he peeked at Veronica, she looked as though she was having a hard time keeping the smile from her face. It almost seemed as though Dick was breaking through Veronica’s walls, and even just one iota of warming up to him, well…that was a miracle in and of itself. Maybe this weekend wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Time to party like it’s…”

“Dick,” she warned.

“No need for such hostility. We’re just a bunch of friends—”

She stopped scratching Dude’s head and looked up. “A bunch of my friends…” Both Logan and Dick raised an eyebrow at her.

“Pretty sure Logan here is _my_ hombre. And Wally and I get along just fine, we’ve even gotten drinks and watched basketball together. Surprise face! Sometimes guys just need guy friends, and as butch as you are, Ronnie, you’re not an actual guy.”

“Thank God for that,” Logan stage-whispered at her, pushing Dude off the couch and pulling his girlfriend against him. 

“You know, Wallace isn’t single anymore. He’s got a girlfriend. Reagan’s coming with him tomorrow.” Enunciating each sentence, Veronica was so focused on Dick that she didn’t notice Logan blanching, trying to shake off whatever seemed to be affecting him so. 

“And Mac?” Dick asked casually. Logan saw Veronica’s eyes narrow on Dick, who was failing to maintain the unaffected air of indifference he put out. His voice was unusually shaky and he seemed to have developed a thin sheen of sweat that clung to his brow. He snuck a glance in her direction from the corner of his eye while he tried to maintain focus on Dude, who was pawing at the humans doing their best to ignore him. Logan couldn’t hold back the chuckle that erupted.

Veronica’s focus shifted suddenly, when her eyes made it back to Logan, his dropped, the tell-tale sign that he knew more about that particular topic than he’d let on. With pursed lips, he picked at the sleeve of his henley while desperately avoiding making eye contact with her. 

“What about Mac, Dick?”

“Uh...well, she’s coming, right?” 

“Uh-huh. Any particular reason you’re so interested? Is she the person you think is the coolest in Neptune?” Her voice bordered the Amber one she’d used for many a case, and the utter confusion his face wore proved he was thrown. 

Dick was caught. Logan knew it. Especially since his girlfriend had gotten off the couch and was closing in on his friend, her finger aimed for the dead center of his chest. 

“Maybe?” he squeaked out before she jabbed her index finger into Dick’s solar plexus. He mouthed an exaggerated ‘ow’ to Logan. Then she did it again, harder.

“This is hardly a maybe situation, Richard. You either like Mac or—” 

“Alright, Ronnie!” He stepped away from her overactive pointer finger and fell back on the couch, Dude following his human, lay across him and Logan. “You got me. I got the hots for Mac. And she never, ever gives me the time of day. I just thought maybe out here she’d see there’s more to me, that I’m an actual adult.” 

Veronica mimed gagging and Logan amended. “You’re more man-child than actual adult, my friend.”

“Business savvy, risk-taking, determined adult. Come on, man, you know how long I’ve liked her.”

“This is an actual, genuine like? Not just an ‘I wanna sex you up’ kind of like?”

“Well, no one said that, Veronica. I’m human after all.” Finding no humor in Veronica’s eyes, he quickly added, “But yes. I, for real, dig Cindy Mackenzie. Have for years. And I’m sure you’ll take great pleasure in knowing that she rejects me constantly, but I don’t know, something tells me not to give up. If she could see me out of Neptune, away from all the bullshit, she could see me for who I really am.” His voice had dropped to a whisper. Dude whimpered, clearly familiar with this version of Dick who Veronica hadn’t ever seen. 

“A pod person?” 

“Veronica,” Logan chastised in his best grown-up voice. He stood and crossed the room to her, running his hands up and down her arms. “Just let him have this. Please?” She nodded.  
His lips pressed against her forehead. As he went to stand by her side, something caught his eye. It was as if something were on the other side of the wall, peeking from the doorway, watching. He stiffened momentarily, deciding it was the time change and all around weirdness of the day playing tricks on his eyes. The eyes that were deemed safe, nay, trusted to fly multi-million dollar machines on a regular basis. He shook his head, seemingly cleared of whatever infiltrated, and turned his attention back to Veronica and Dick.

“She didn’t say for sure if she was bringing anyone, so, it’s still a possibility. If there is someone, I doubt it’s serious. She hasn’t really talked boys in a while; the last one did a number on her, I think,” she shrugged. Logan felt the muscles in his back tense, his spine seemed fused in place as his fingers furiously tapped a staccato beat against his thigh. 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he mumbled as he walked toward whatever it was he thought he’d seen. Fortunately, it was next to a bathroom. Maybe the water would work this time. A few splashes later the faucet turned off with a groan, he shook his head and opened the door. He heard Veronica’s voice carrying down the hall, the short clipped tone that signaled she was at the end of her tether.

“Well, Dick, as fun as this has been, I think it’s time I put your friend to bed,” Logan crept back toward the great room, casually leaning against the wall to observe his best friend and best girl, unawares.

“He’s awfully jumpy tonight,” Dick mused. “It’s this place. The woods, I mean. Logan’s always had a deep-seated Crystal Lake fear, like Jason or Mrs.Vorhees are going to jump down from the roof of wherever we are. If it’s surrounded by woods, especially when it snows, Logan gets antsy...and angsty as fuck. Try not to break him, Ronnie. I kinda like having him back.”

The fuck, Dick? Before he could make himself known Veronica said, “Not nearly as much as I do, Dick. Night, Dude.” She scratched behind the dog's enormous ears and was rewarded with a sloppy kiss on her arm. Dick groaned as she wiped the drool off on his shirt. Logan couldn’t help but laugh, giving away his position as Veronica beelined toward him, and promptly dragged him up the stairs.

“Finally,” Veronica all but groaned as she launched herself at her boyfriend. He laughed against her lips as he backed her up toward the bed.

“I think all this fresh air is short circuiting your brain, darlin’.” 

She pulled away just the slightest bit, confusion furrowing her brow. “Huh?” And while her mind paused to ponder what he’d meant, her hands hadn’t left Logan’s torso, quickly divesting him of...one shirt. “Jesus, Logan, how many Henleys did you think you needed to wear?” He sighed, shaking his head and pushed her back onto the bed, a sinister smile forming that spread to his eyes. Dark, molten orbs burned through her as he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and slowly, achingly slowly, he pulled it off, throwing it on a chair across the room. 

“You know, Veronica, you keep looking at me like that and I’ll think you only want me for my body.”

“I’m sorry that you are positively drool-worthy, Lo. And, unfortunately, I don’t get to see your body nearly enough to get fully used to it...but as hot as this is.” She ran her hand down his pecs and his abs, stopping just above the waistband of his jeans before abruptly cupping his face to tap his temple. “What’s in here is sooooo much hotter.”

“Is that so?” he whispered against her lips.

“Uh-huh. Now use that sexy fucking mind of yours to think of all the things you want to do to me and then do them with this fucking amazing body of yours.”

She growled, he thought, as he pinned her body against the bed. Then he heard it again, farther from her mouth, behind him maybe. He pulled away abruptly, leaving them both panting.

She reached to pull him down to her but he was distracted, his eyes darting back to the still closed door. 

“What?”

“You didn’t hear that?” Logan sat back on his haunches, hands on hips as he tried to determine where the sound was coming from. His exceedingly frustrated girlfriend propped up on her elbows, eyes alight with confusion and no small amount of annoyance.

The noise interrupted again. Her eyes lazily swept toward the door then back to Logan. “That noise?” He nodded. “I’m pretty sure that it’s Dude. Or Dick watching something. Or a coyote, or a bear or fucking Manbearpig for all I know, because we’re in the fucking woods, Logan.”

He was momentarily taken aback by her tone, exasperation tinged with lust while she was spread out wantonly before him. A pang of longing shot through him, how easy to reach out and smother out all the voices in his head by losing himself in her.

And yet. A niggling in the back of his mind brought his attention back to the growling. Or whatever it was. It was faint, distant, but lingering. Something about warning bells tripping, whatever it was he tuned in to pooled like dread in his stomach. He swallowed hard, catching Veronica’s eyes, noting the way she bit her lip Logan softened, making his way to kiss her soundly. 

“C’mon, flip over,” he commanded, breaking this kiss before he got too carried away to stop himself again. She raised her eyebrow at him, trying to pull his hands back to cover her breasts, but he merely used the change in position to pull her up to him, on her knees, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “Tonight I just want to take care of you.”

She pointed down at her half naked body, the answer to how she wanted him to do that vividly displayed in her eyes. When he wouldn’t cave she heaved a sigh and flopped onto her stomach. 

“This had better be good, Echolls.” Her threat was effectively obscured by the pillows she was currently face-down in. 

“Has it never not been good, Mars?” The only reply he got came in the form of a loud grunt as his fingers worked their magic along her spine. His large hands traced the well known trail across her back and shoulders, working out knots, erasing tensions and putting her soundly to sleep. Kissing her temple and tucking her under the covers, he crept out of the bedroom feeling no better about his decision to keep their interaction PG-13.

“Fucking Scream, really?” he muttered to himself as he walked down the stairs. Was that what all this was about? Okay, so yes, maybe he had been creeped out while they were at the lodge earlier, but who could blame him? This had all the markings of a horror movie. 

Creepy, old hotel in the mountains...check. Remotely located...check. Endearing locals...double check. He’d been expecting it to have some ridiculously unbelievable backstory, star-crossed lovers in a suicide pact, unhinged jealously, cursed grounds, anything else that filled the cliche quota, but it didn’t. The fact that the previous owners of the hotel were just bad business men whose habits, from blowing their profits up their noses or blowing of other kinds in all sorts of unsavory places, did much to assuage his concerns earlier. When they’d made their way up to the cabin he hadn’t thought twice of divesting Veronica of her top in the living room, the need for her overcame all of his senses. Dudes poorly— perfectly— timed entrance was enough to put him into overdrive.

Something wasn’t right. More so here than at the main building. Perhaps a nightcap was necessary to quell his overactive imagination. He veered into the kitchen, producing a flask from the rucksack he’d thrown in there earlier. Swallowing down the warm liquid, he was drawn to light flickering in the living room. He came up behind Dick, who was intently watching something on his laptop.

“Dick!” Logan’s hands clapped on his shoulders, causing Dick to jump, snatching his laptop from the air seconds before it hit the ground. Dude’s ear twitched, one eye popping open lazily and upon recognizing Logan, closed, seemingly back in doggy dreamland within seconds.

“What the hell, man?! I should be the one calling you that,” Logan smirked, hopping over the back of the couch he held out his flask which Dick received happily. 

“What are you watching?” Dick placed the laptop on the coffee table, laughing quietly.

“Mr. Robot.”

Logan offered his flask again but this time Dick declined. “Is Mac, perchance, a fan?” Dick nodded. “Do you like it?”

“Oh yeah, it’s good. Kinda all over the place, and it takes a ridiculous amount of sobriety to follow, but, it’s worth it,” Dick smiled shyly, clearly thinking of more than just the show. 

“If it makes you happy, my friend.”

“Speaking of happy, why are you down here with me and not up there with your minx of a girlfriend?” The chill Logan had spent the better part of the day trying to ward off reemerged at that very moment, running it’s icy fingers up his spine. “What did she do now? Did she—”

“No, Dick, it’s nothing like that. Veronica and I are good. Really, really good,” he smiled, believing every word he said, for once. He looked at his friend, whose face wore the classic ‘...and?’ expression, still curious as to why Logan was downstairs. “I don’t know, man. On any day, in any year, anywhere on this planet, I would rather be with up there doing less than savory things with her. Except here. Something about this whole place man, just fucking sets my teeth on edge.”

“Well, considering…” Confusion stole over Logan’s face faster than the words fell from Dick’s mouth. “Ohhh, she didn’t tell you, haha, well, I suppose she has some big reveal planned for everyone.”

“No, she told me about the lodge and all that. It’s just, I really don’t know how to explain it except,” he took a deep breath and tried to make it as simple as he could. For his own sanity, if he dwelled on the eyes he thought he saw peeking at him from around the corners of the cabin, Dick’d really think he was going crazy. “I trust my instincts. Always have. They’ve always been good enough to keep me alive, at the very least, and the Navy has only helped me hone it. And there’s just something off about this place, man.”

“So, you and Ronnie aren’t knocking boots because you’re taking the advice of a twenty-year-old horror movie that says sexy times equal death?” Leave it to Dick to see through all the bullshit posturing he was trying to build up in his head and cut him down to the thirteen-year-old boy scared of Wes Craven movies. He had lived worse since then. Psycho killers didn’t wear masks and kill the homecoming queen in his reality, they were called Dad, and the victims who suffered at his hands were all the women he’d ever loved. 

“Well, when you say it like that…”

“You sound like a fucking idiot?”

Logan jumped off the couch, pushing Dicks shoulder playfully. “I get it though. Not wanting to jeopardize it, doing everything in your power to keep things good. If your feelings say no lovings, don’t let your body tell you otherwise. Stay strong.” Logan lifted his fist in solidarity, walking backward toward the stairs.

“Hey, has Dude been acting weird since you’ve been here? Growling or anything?” 

Dick scoffed. “He barely picked his head up when you scared the shit out of me, he’s not so much reactionary.”

Logan nodded, smiling tightly before bounding back up the stairs. Crawling into bed, he wrapped himself around Veronica as delicately as he could.

“You okay, baby?” she whispered sleepily. He pulled her close to his chest, kissing her forehead, smoothing the hair away from her face.

“Just perfect if you’re in my arms,” he replied sincerely and he felt her smile against his chest. 

“Love you.” He fell asleep with her words ringing in his ears.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Three a.m.

Veronica woke with a gasp. She stumbled from the bed to the bathroom, her ankle burned, blazing-white hot where the phantom fingers had grabbed her. 

She looked down expecting to find nothing, since it was only her imagination she tried, failingly, to convince herself. But there they were, angry bruises, purple and black around the entirety of her lower leg. She swallowed thickly, and tried the breathing exercises she’d learned to control her anxiety when it threatened to overwhelm her. After several iterations, she felt calm enough to go back to bed. With a final appraisal of herself in the mirror she nodded and turned to face the door. 

That’s when she saw it.

The long hair swept away from the doorframe, into the bedroom…

And then she heard it. 

“Veronica…” it called, the sound of something being scraped on the wall trailed away with the voice.

“Logan!” His name spilled from her lips tremulously as she burst from the bathroom, the ethereal trail still in her periphery escaping to the loft. Giggling. Childish and high it set her teeth on edge. And in the same breath, gone. The room was instantly nebulous. Even the shadows seemed disquieted. With a shuddering breath, she threw herself back into bed, burrowing as deeply under the covers and into Logan as she could, waiting desperately for sleep to take her.


	2. Chapter 2

Friday

"Come on, man. You couldn't put a shirt on to open the door? That's cold!"

Logan smiled. He couldn't help but flex a little as he shut the door behind Wallace and Reagan. When he caught the appreciative look Reagan leveled at him, he winked and leaned against the doorjamb.

"It's cold out there, Fennel, but your girl turned the heat up to ninety last night, so you can blame her for my lack of modesty."

Wallace turned back toward Logan, his mouth open to respond when—

"Wally!" Dick and Dude barreled down the hallway...smiling, barking, one was probably drooling—it really could have been either. Logan just pushed himself away from the door, past the newcomers and the welcoming committee.

"Wait, where the hell are you going, Logan? And why is Dick here? I didn't tell Reagan that they were going to be here, and I have zero intention of babysitting his drunk ass when Mac shows up with her boy."

"Whoa, first of all, I do not need a babysitter, thank you. That's what Dude is for."

Logan nodded his head reluctantly. "He is literally trained to make sure Dick doesn't drown in his own vomit."

"That's...pretty fucked up," Reagan interjected.

Dick shrugged and turned into the kitchen, Dude dutifully at his heels.

"And about Mac—seeing her with another guy isn't gonna push me over the edge. It hasn't yet. So rest easy, assholes, I won't be going all Cropsy on you."

Logan was rubbing at his temples; Dick and Wallace bickering this early did not bode well. He hadn't slept so well himself. Between Veronica's light and troubled sleep and the weird dreams that rattled around when he did manage to fall asleep, the headache that was threatening would soon take over. The Navy had taught him to deal with the lack of sleep, but they couldn't do anything to keep the headaches away.

"Well, I'm going to wake up, Princess. Dick, you're on KP!" He bounded up the stairs, missing whatever Dick had yelled after him. Ducking into the bathroom, he took a few pills from his rucksack. Wiping the water from his chin, he walked back into the bedroom. Veronica was in the same place he'd left her, lying across the quilt and clutching the pillow he'd slept on tightly in her arms.

He crossed the few steps to the bed and crawled in behind her, wrapping her small frame up in his.

"Verooonniiccaaa," he said softly. When she snuggled deeper into the pillow, he coaxed her again, upping the ante by running his fingers up and down her stomach. She shifted slightly, her body more aligned with his now, and he could feel her pressing back against him.

You did not think this through, Echolls.

Putting a hand on her waist, he stilled her movement which jarred her enough for her eyes to open. "Go 'way, Lo," she mumbled.

"Wally and Reagan are here, Mac will probably be here soon, and Dick's cooking breakfast. You're the one who said we've got a big day ahead of us; I'm just doing my civic duty by rousing our fearless leader."

"Hah! Your 'fearless leader' may have been more willing to lead the charge if she had gotten what she wanted last night." Her voice was still muffled by the pillow, but her backside, which was currently wriggling against him, made her words and intentions clear. He wheezed a breath and resumed the absent-minded circles he'd been tracing on her stomach. When her palm ran up his thigh, he knew he was a goner. There was no way in hell he'd be able to stall again.

"Veronica! Get your ass down here and explain why Dick Casablancas is making waffles!" Mac's exasperated voice carried up the stairs and broke the moment. Logan heaved a sigh of relief at Mac's interruption, putting some distance between his greatest temptation and rolled off the bed.

"No excuses now, Princess." He pulled a tee shirt out of his bag and pulled it on just as Veronica sat up, pouting. "It is completely unfair how adorable you are. If I were a weaker man, our friends would be waiting a very long time. Alas, one of us has to be strong." He crossed back to the bed and kissed her gently, brushing the hair from her face as he cradled it in his hands. Logan pulled away with a grandiose flourish, crossing his hands over his heart as if it were painful to separate, spinning away from the bed and blowing an exaggerated kiss from the doorway.

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Veronica stood on the front steps of the main building, wind whipping the leaves and swirling them around her feet. It was an ideal Autumnal day in southwestern Pennsylvania. The air was cool and crisp with fluffy white clouds that mottled the bright, azure sky.

"A long time ago…" she started.

"Think maybe we can skip the theatrics, Vee?" Wallace questioned, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend while his eyes traced the treetops. Veronica watched him jump and turn toward every sound that came out of the woods, holding Reagan tighter with each passing moment.

"What, and deprive her the privilege of spinning what is sure to be a well-rehearsed tale of the days of yore?" Logan shook his head as he came to stand next to her, the slight tremble that ran through him belied his true feelings about being back at the lodge—although he'd continue to insist that it was all in her head.

"Maybe just cut the expository backstory and get to the point?" Mac suggested. Her head was crooked to the side, hands on agitated hips as her eyes fixed on her friend, who had been fixing her with the withering stare since she'd stumbled down from bed that morning. Mac's friend, Trent, shifted the bag on his shoulder again. He managed to smile throughout the decidedly awkward breakfast, but out here, in the middle of the wilderness, he looked like a six-three bundle of raw nerves.

"Dudes, chill, let the master spin her story."

Veronica's head shook dazedly as she looked toward the sound of her unlikely defender. "Uh, thanks, Dick."

"Fine," Logan threw his hands up and jumped down off the steps, joining the rest of the group playing audience. "Tell us all about the forsaken forest and its inhabitants, Ronnie." His brows bobbed up and down as a smirk pulled at his lips.

"I hate to break it to you, Echolls, but you got the kid's version yesterday. Now, if you're all done whining…" she looked to the group and clapped her hands excitedly at their silence. "Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I give you all 'The Tale of Hotel Hell!" Her enthusiastic opening was met by a chorus of disapproving groans, to which she replied with a pair of machine-gun middle fingers and a sardonic grin.

"Fine then. Be jerks." Her dramatic sigh received another volley of rolled eyes, which she shook off with a chuckle. "We're going to deal with the details today, and the best place to start...the beginning. Well, at least as we know it. Recorded history starts in 1791, when six Dutch families settled this particular tract of land. Years passed and more people moved into the area; the need for communal space spurred the building of a courthouse and commons that sat on this very site. Most of the settlers took to the foothills, building cabins and stables on small plots of land distributed by lottery.

"In the early 1830s, the Dekker family, a father, mother and eventually seven children, called one of those cabins home after several cousins had made their way to the Alleghenies."

"Is this where the party goes Donner?"

"No," Veronica shook her head ruefully. "No cannibalism. Just murder, or murders, supposedly. The Dekker homestead, along with several others and the buildings here, were all burned to the ground. No one from their immediate or extended families were ever seen again.

"Being highly suspicious, and superstitious, the settlers refused to rebuild on the scorched earth and stuck to their more secluded and safer homesteads."

"Was it the dad? It's always the dad…" Trent intoned, clearly not knowing the backstory of the group he was with. Veronica shot a worried glance at Logan, who waved a dismissive finger.

"No one actually knows. But it is assumed that it was Mr. Dekker," Veronica supplied sadly.

"So, how did the hotel come to be?" Wallace offered up, moving the conversation away from the dark turn.

"Elementary, my dear Wallace."

"I fucking hate when she says that," he loudly grumbled, the sound slightly muffled by Reagan's wavy red hair. She smiled wide, bright-eyed and excited as Veronica carried on about the hotel.

"The land was requisitioned during the Civil War. The building was constructed as lodging for Union soldiers. It was far enough off the beaten path and the local lore was strong enough to keep even the Confederates away."

"Local lore? That's layman's terms for haunted, no?" Dick asked flipping the hair from his eyes.

"Great! So, ghosts of murdered villagers and Civil War soldiers? Can't wait!" Reagan smiled blithely as if she thought this were actually a paranormal investigation.

"Or neither, considering ghosts aren't real," Mac interjected.

"More like we're going to try and figure out who's been setting fires and if there's any tampering done with the building itself," Trent said politely, drawing Reagan's attention to the multitude of tech gear he and Mac were carrying.

"It's likely the descendants of the earliest settlers—the ones who still live on their archaic family homesteads—don't want hundreds of Dick-like dicks, contaminating their idyllic backwoods."

"Hmm, if this was more 'Deliverance' and less 'Wrong Turn', I'd bet they'd love all those dicks," Logan said with a wicked grin. His comment garnered high fives from Wallace and Dick, who was walking an anxious Dude in a serpentine loop around the front of the house.

Veronica shot him a look—eyebrow raised, lips in a tight line—the kind of look that produced silence as a result. He mimed zipping his lips and hers couldn't help but twist into the faintest glimmer of a smile.

"We'd have to be in West Virginia for any of that to work, and we are not. In case anyone was actually wondering, we're in Fayette County, Pennsylvania, named for Marquis de Lafayette and the very place where the Whisky Rebellion started...no? No history buffs? Fine. Just be aware, the closest bit of civilization is Dunbar, which boasts a population less than attend Neptune High. So, as we scour and search, be safe; if we find ourselves in a situation that requires help, it might take a while." Veronica watched Wallace's adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. Trent looked equally confident, while Reagan still smiled, through her eyes now bore a darker glint. Mac looked bored. "Now, since we're already pretty much split into teams, everybody take a bag and I will hand off to Mac to explain what she's already done and what all we'll be doing here today." She motioned her friend to the steps as she moved into the vacant spot next to Logan.

Mac stood for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing deeply as her work facade slid into place.

"The only reason that I'm here at all, is because it's technically my job, this being an official Mars investigation," Veronica pouted at her and she laughed. Mac's head shook resignedly as her fingers wiped at her eyes. "And maybe also because of a weekend away with friends..." The word dripped acidly as her eyes focused sharply on something beyond Veronica's gaze, her posture emphasizing her words. "...to somewhere I had never been, might have amped the wanderlust just a skosh. Either way, here we are!"

Mac held up her tablet. The screen blinked marking their location, the cabins Dick was considering also purchasing marked by digitized thumbtacks, spread up the mountainside. The one they were staying in sat at the top of the main road, while the rest would require ATVs to reach.

The plan was set. Wallace and Reagan would set up cameras on the outside of three of the cabins, while Logan and Veronica did the other four. This left Dick and Dude to handle the main lodge with Mac and Trent, as he hadn't been with them the past couple of weeks learning to handle the sensitive equipment.

"Okay, let's plan on meeting back here at fifteen-hundred hours. That'll give us close to four hours to get everything set, and we'll still have daylight left to troubleshoot if anything goes wrong." Logan said. As he heaved his and Veronica's sacks onto his shoulders, he looked toward their friends and then back to Veronica. His brow was raised as if seeking her approval.

Veronica nodded and kissed his cheek. "Hear that? 3:00 p.m...be here or we'll assume you fell victim to the Woods' Witch."

"Witch?! See, y'all forgot to mention anything about witches; Wallace Fennel draws a big, impassable line at witch."

Veronica looked over her shoulder. She tried hard to keep the laughter out of her eyes and used her teeth to hold her lip from breaking into a smile. When Wallace noticed her, he shook his head in annoyance, muttering things about her ice-cold tendencies. Veronica started to turn away but noticed that Reagan's deportment had entirely changed. The exuberant smile and open affection were stifled by rigid posture and an expression on her face, that looked a considerable bit like hurt. Veronica cocked her head, curiosity piqued. "Did you notice that?" she whispered to Logan as they walked toward the shed that housed the two all-terrain vehicles they'd be taking out.

He shook his head no as she dug the giant key ring out of her bag and undid the padlock. She held up a finger indicating that once they were alone again she'd continue. He shrugged and got on the first four-wheeler. It started it right up and he backed it out, waving his hands over its seat as he hopped off to hand it over to Wallace and Reagan.

Reagan's smile had returned, but there was something else going on that Veronica couldn't quite place. And she hated that. In the few months Veronica had been getting to know Reagan, she'd never had a reason to doubt her. But today Veronica could tell Reagan wasn't getting the whole story from Wallace's girlfriend, and not being able to read Reagan as easily as she thought she could bristled her.

When Reagan's laughter trailed off behind the sound of the Polaris' engine, Veronica turned back to Logan. He was half inside the shed ready to grab the other four wheeler. While the other machine seemed to amble back to life, their decidedly less gentle beast started with a spark, smoke and a string of expletives that would have put seventeen-year-old Logan to shame. He emerged in a noxious plume, holding up a helmet, which she begrudgingly took and put on.

"Oh no, you are riding bitch, Echolls." Veronica crossed her arms in front of her, helmet—too big—nestled between her small shoulders and he started to laugh. His head lolled around as he scooted back enough for her to wriggle between the handles and himself. She applauded excitedly as she slid into position, pressing herself intimately against her boyfriend His hand gripped her waist in response, his voice drowned out by the poorly tuned engine of their rusty, old Yamaha.

Veronica and Logan took off down the path, a fair clip behind their friends with no intention to catch up. She veered left off the main trail about fifteen minutes in, a small cottage rising from behind the red and gold foiled trees. She pulled up out front, Logan hopped off the ATV and strung the camera off the lattice on the side porch. The signal and transmission were good, and they took off to the next one.

The next cabin, though slightly larger and requiring two cameras, went up just as easily. It wasn't until they reached the third, which was larger still, that they had some difficulty. The windows on the second floor were open and needed to be closed—apparently something had crawled into the vacant space and died. The current owner hadn't cared enough to come back close them, allowing the cycle to continue again and again. Surprisingly, that was the only mishap they encountered, and they made their way to the fourth place on the map within an hour and a half. It seemed, to Veronica, that this was going go a lot more quickly than the hours they had doled out. Not that she wasn't sure she couldn't find something to occupy their time once they finished.

"See, why can't every place look like this one?" Logan whined as he slid off the ATV, putting his hand out for Veronica to grab after she shut down the Yamaha. He pulled off his helmet, then hers, and set them on the ground next to their vehicle as she shook away the hair that clung to her neck. The wind, picking up in time, swept up the leaves and sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes fixed on Logan, his muscles rippling under his Under Armour as he picked their bags back off the ground. When he looked up, their eyes met, his becoming bashful as hers became more heated.

"What's say we get this wrapped up so we can do a bit more exploration on our own, hmm?" She waggled her brows at him and sauntered off toward what would most aptly be described as a bungalow. The key dangled from her fingers, centimetres from the lock, and the door swung open of its own accord.

"Spooky," Logan breathed, his fingers ghosting up her neck as she jumped.

She turned on him; the finger that had caused Dick such discomfort the night before found itself buried in Logan's trunk. "Do that again and I swear, Logan, it won't only be here you're sleeping alone."

"You wound me, Bobcat," he said, rubbing his fingers over the spot she had just jabbed. "You're the one who wanted this wacky misadventure; far be it from me to not enjoy every last unintentional side effect." She watched his hand run up the back of his head, rubbing the shorn hairs as his eyes darted from her to whatever caught his attention inside the cabin. Quickly, she turned, light reflecting off something inside, obviously. It had to be. She looked back at Logan whose face showed he clearly was trying to convince himself of the same thing.

He shook his head and she stepped into his space, arms sliding around his waist as she caught his dark brown eyes, flickering from her face to the empty space behind her and back. He leaned forward and caught her lips in a gentle kiss. She could feel his hesitancy. Slowly, she slid her hands from his waist and up his back, holding him tighter to her, running her tongue across his lips, parting them as she deepened the kiss, dragging him into the dark cottage.

The bags slid off Logan's shoulders, dropping to the floor with a thud that echoed through the empty space.

"V'ronica," he tried to say as she continued her assault on her mouth. "Let's just get this done."

"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Echolls? What is this thing you want to 'do'?" Veronica's voice had taken on a gritty edge as she raked her nails across his back. He groaned, and tried pulling away again, but Veronica clung to him with tenacity.

"I swear, woman, you will be the death of me," he worked to regain some control, kissing her back with ardor and backing her into, what she assumed, was the nearest wall while her legs reflexively wrapped around his waist.

"You do seem to like equalizing this height disparity by pushing me against hard surfaces," she moaned breathlessly as his head dipped to her neck, huffing a laugh along her collarbone.

"I haven't heard a complaint yet." When he nipped at the base of her neck she dug her heels into his ass, pressing him as close to her as she could, desperately trying to work his zipper with her free hand. He ground against her in response, his breathing becoming as shallow and rushed as her own when the front door—that they'd forgotten to shut in their fervor—slammed shut with the kind of force that knocked them both off their axis.

"Motherfuck!" Veronica screamed as both she and Logan jumped, heads bashing into each other most unsexily.

Logan seemed to recover first, pulling them away from the wall and practically plucking Veronica off his waist. Her breathing had returned to a somewhat normal cadence, but her heart still pounded in her chest. The nearly uncomfortable state of arousal she was in didn't help matters either. She looked back up at Logan with heavy-lidded eyes, but his had strayed from her and darted back towards the door. He stepped back and spun away with military precision, Veronica watching as he examined the door, and frame, finding nothing but wind and haste as guilty parties.

"Why don't we make sure the place is locked down. We'll set the cameras on the way out and head back to the lodge," he said, fiddling with the deadbolt, turning it to lock and then unlock every few seconds. He took a deep breath and turned back to Veronica, his eyes seemingly ghosting over her and trying to focus on something farther away.

"Lo, what is it?" she questioned, taking a step toward him. He shook his head and pushed past her, grabbing their previously discarded bags and flashlight in hand, and headed upstairs. Heaving a sigh, she followed him, the thought of ghostly fingers on another set of stairs not far from her mind as she neared the top. Waiting for it, she was almost disappointed that nothing happened.

The upstairs of the cottage was deceptively large. Two bedrooms and two bathrooms, plus a screening room were nestled in the rustic space. Logan emerged from the first bedroom, his hand gripping the Maglite with such force his knuckles looked white, and gave the all clear as he moved into another room.

Veronica swallowed her discomfort down, if something could rattle him, she was sure it could have some effect on her and she wanted no part of it. If he was using distance to control himself, she'd give him the space he needed. The bathroom yielded nothing, it was closed up tightly, the plumbing seemingly winterized for another season of disuse. She closed the door behind her and walked into the makeshift cinema. The popcorn machine was covered with a tarp, but the signs advertising its presence remained tacked on the wall as did framed movie posters from all the great Hollywood ages. Except one. It reeked of '80s nostalgia, the cheap, cheesy action flick that guys took girls to see how far they could get in public.

Veronica stared at the 'Long Haul' image a beat longer than she wanted to, nausea flooding her stomach as she found Aaron Echolls eyes staring back at her, a cold, dead stare from when he was still very much alive.

Veronica.

It was the same voice she heard the night before. It was soft and loud all at once, stern, beckoning, yet childlike. She stopped at the window, checking for any damage. Ensuring it was locked, she peeked out at the crisp autumn day. The sky was still a cheery blue but the clouds had multiplied, dimming the little sun that filtered through the thick canopy.

And someone was standing at the tree line. She blinked and the figure remained, smallish and feminine. She tried to note any other features, but she was too far away to ascertain anything except for the fact there was indeed someone there. Slowly, she leveled her camera with her eye and took a series of shots. The figure was gone by the time Veronica had thumbed through the pictures, happy she had something to take back to Dick so she could advise him not to buy this money pit.

She took a step back, turning to leave the room when the poster caught her eye again. This time, she'd almost swear that Aaron was smirking at her, though she knew nothing could have changed the image. She shook her head and ran from the room just in time to catch the back of Logan disappearing into the second bathroom.

With a gentle pull, she closed the door to the screening room, her eyes leaving the hall for a second when she thought she'd seen something follow Logan into the bathroom. With a speed that surprised even her, Veronica was in the room too. Logan looking at her with concern as she crossed to him.

"Veronica, did something happen?"

"No, I just thought...well, I don't know what I thought. I swear, I am never coming back to the woods." She laughed a sigh as he came into her space, resting a large, warm hand on her waist. "Two days and I'm chasing shadows, thinking something else was in this room with you when I know it's just you and me here." She threw her head against the firm wall of his chest and basked in feeling his lips on her head.

"You're so cute when you're protective."

"You don't mean paranoid, irrational and over-protective? Logan, I burst in here thinking I could save you from—I don't even know what. Nothing? Everything? Branch monsters?"

Pointing at the wall, he saw the shadow the trees had cast and he held her tighter. "No, I know what you mean. This place does things to me too. For instance, I swear I just saw someone outside."

"Oh good. Well, at least we know that one's not a figment of our imagination," she held up her camera and tapped her finger against the side. "There's evidence."

He let out a sigh and pulled back just a hairsbreadth before he kissed her soundly, insisting they finish up and get back. She nodded against him and let him lead her from the house.

The last of the cameras went up without a hitch, and the mysterious person didn't make another appearance...though Veronica couldn't seem to shake the feeling that someone was watching. With one final look to the woods, she hopped on the back of the four-wheeler, allowing Logan to drive them back as her mind tried to catalogue all that had occurred.

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(Wallace and Reagan)

"Isn't this just…"

Wallace looked up from his task, watching his girlfriend excitedly toss a pile of leaves into the air.

"Cold? Damp?"

"Beautiful?"

"Sure…"

"Just look at this place, Wallace," Reagan said twirling, kicking up the leaves as she laughed.

He hopped off the porch after placing the camera and walked to where she stood, a gentle hand on coming to rest on either side of her waist. "It looks like a dusty old cabin in the dirty old woods in the middle of a very bad horror flick."

She pushed against his chest as he leaned in to kiss her, turning her head away effectively avoiding the questions in his eyes. He fixed her with the kind of look that implied that he had nowhere to be, and waited with a patient gleam for her to start. "Earlier, when you said..." she stumbled, tripping on the words she failed to get out. He thumbed her chin and could feel her unsteady breathing.

"Baby, calm down. Take a deep breath," he said, rubbing his hands up and down the length of her arms. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He mirrored her nod and finally she smiled.

"Earlier, when you said you drew the line at witches, you were just talking the '...and your little dog, too,' kind…right?"

Wallace's head tilted at the unexpected question, taking a moment to consider what he had actually meant. "Uh, I guess. Well, maybe also the 'Blair' variety. Oh, or Angelica Huston as the boss witch in that kid's movie, hell naw." He started to laugh, watching Reagan's cheek suck inward. He sobered instantly as he watched her struggle to find words; what she did manage to say coming out in an indiscernible huff. Wallace shrugged and shook his head earnestly as Reagan's shoulders squared.

"I. Am. A witch."

Blink. Beat. Blink blink. His mouth opened, then quickly closed. "A what, now?"

"A witch," she repeated with a curt nod.

"Like a pointy-hat-wearing, broom-riding, bake-small-children-in-a-gingerbread-house kind of witch?"

Wallace watched her eyes narrow. She was fuming, he realized, her face glowing in the autumn chill. He didn't know what to say.

"Wow, Wallace." She tried twisting away from him, but he only loosened his grip, keeping her anchored to the porch.

"Hey." He nudged her back to looking at him and tried again with a softer tone. "Hey, you know I'm only kidding, right? While I have zero idea about what being a witch entails. I know it's nothing like the aforementioned Hollywood tropes." He felt slightly relieved when his comment garnered a half smile from his girlfriend.

"Well, thank the goddess for small miracles." She smiled more fully and he couldn't help but grin in return.

"So, will you teach me the ways of the modern witch?"

"Oh no. No, I will school you."

Laughing, Wallace kissed her cheek and turned out of her reach, rushing off to finish the cabin's security check while Reagan stayed to test and hang the other equipment.

He'd never met a witch before, or if he had, he didn't know about it. He honestly wasn't sure what to think. Wallace'd always been more science-minded—not that he didn't understand or have his own faith, but he'd never gone so far as to define it.

He liked her. Like liked her. Quite a lot, in fact. Reagan was wickedly smart, and she taught AP English along with a class that vivisected poetry of the romantic era—for fun. Needless to say, she fit right in with his verbally-caustic comrades. He chuckled to himself when thinking about the first night they'd all met at Veronica and Logan's. There was a distinct lack of hot fudge in his foreseeable future because of it, but Reagan had just laughed at their antics and suggested they come back later. He would never forget the look on Veronica's face when they did return and handed her a bag replete with goodies that would make Jenna Jameson blush. And while they'd only been dating a few months, with everything he knew about her, he couldn't imagine something like her being a witch changing how he felt.

An icy breeze swept through the hillside, wrapping around his torso and licking up his neck. Wallace shivered. He threw his head over his shoulder down the hallway he had just vacated, where all the windows were not only locked but winterized. Shaking his head, he completed his tasks and headed back to his waiting girlfriend.

He found her sitting between two of the larger trees on the property, her head tilted back, mouth moving wordlessly.

Slowly, he approached, hesitant and unable to shake the chill from before. "Reagan?"

"Shhhhh...I'm communing with nature," she admonished, closing her eyes, a smile pulling at her lips.

"The only bit of nature I'm interested in communing with is too busy talking to the trees." An eye popped open, and the smile turned lecherous.

"By all means, Mr. Fennel." She reached out and pulled him down into the leaves.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

"I think that one outdoor sexual encounter is my daily limit, Wallace." He pulled his hands away from her waist as she playfully batted at his chest.

"I think we'll have to test that theory when we get back home." Wallace raised a suggestive brow and removed himself from the V of her legs where she still sat on the four wheeler. An eye roll was all he got in response as they headed for the cabin that loomed in the distance.

"This is a step up from the last two, huh?" Wallace hoisted the bag over his shoulder and climbed up the porch steps. Reagan, however, remained steadfast, her back ramrod straight as Wallace watched her follow something his own eyes didn't see. "Babe?"

She took a step toward the tree line and he called out to her again. Turning with a shake of her head, her lips held a tremulous smile. She took a step in his direction. When she paused, Wallace couldn't help the little puff of air that exasperatedly escaped him. She turned back to the path just a moment before bounding up next to him.

She dismissed his impending questioning with a flick of her wrist and took the camera from his bag, mounting it silently with methodical precision. Feeds checked, they moved to the next before Wallace broke the silence.

"Reagan." He reached out and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and couldn't help the pang that shot through him when she jumped. "Are you okay? You're not regretting—"

"No! Nothing like that." Her head shook earnestly.

"So, what then? Why are you jumpy all of a sudden?"

She exhaled heavily, forefinger warily stroking the length of her nose. "I told you, I'm a witch. And a part of that, for me, is...it's hard to explain. But there's something almost preternatural about this place. It's like a pull, here," she pointed to her stomach, her hand splayed shakily against her body. "I can feel something, Wallace, and it's outré. Very outré."

"What exactly does that mean? Are you for real saying that some mountain man killed his family and their ghosts haunt the woods?"

She snorted and the laugh that followed lacked mirth. "Oh, it's way worse than that."

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(Dick, Mac, and Trent)

"So, Trent, right?" Dick said, unabashedly sizing up his competition.

"Yep." The 'P' popped loudly and Dick twitched in annoyance. Trent continued working on his current project while Dude laid at Dick's feet, intently watching the new guy.

"How do you know Mac?"

"We worked together at Kane."

He waited a beat and when Trent failed to elaborate, he felt the frustration rise in his gullet. He just hoped it didn't seep into his voice. "Are you, like," he tossed his hair carelessly from his eyes, "dating?" And there it , not at all casual affectation, just pure old desperation. Dammit Dick.

Trent straightened up and turned away from the camera he was mounting. His greasy hair fell to the wrong side of his super-trendy undercut, while one of the smarmiest smirks grew on his face.

"You want Mac."

"What?" Dick pushed himself from the doorframe and took a step back into the hallway. In his haste to get away, he seemed to forget the massive dog lazing at his feet and tripped into the wall, most gracefully sliding down before landing in a heap at Mac's feet.

"Smooth. I give it seven point five. You really gotta stick those landings," she shrugged with mock sympathy as she stepped over him and went into the room with Trent. Dejected, Dick picked himself up and tried to keep himself from doing something stupid.

"You wound me, Mackenzie," he called from the doorway. When she looked away annoyed, he added. "Sincerely." The word dripped acidly, burning between them as he caught the flash of her turning head in his periphery. He whistled for Dude and started walking down the hall. A loud noise and a throat clearing that called his attention back and he realized Dude wasn't with him. Muttering curses to whoever would listen, Dick stalked back toward Mac and her newest boyfriend—who was not him. What he saw in the room, however...well, he would bury that memory deep in his heart.

Dude had chosen to employ his most effective maneuver—the lean—and had Mac pinned in his quest for attention. Mac, though acting thoroughly exasperated, was laughing at his antics, her eyes twinkling as her smile finally reached them. And when their eyes met, Dick felt it. It was warm, like a tingle that spread throughout his body that dissipated as quickly as it had appeared.

"Dick!" There was real annoyance in her voice now, rolling off her in waves he did not feel like surfing, further banishing whatever had come over him.

"Dude, let's go. It's clear we're not wanted. Since you techies surely don't need me, I'll go 'Big Brother' the outside." If it were possible, Dick would have sworn Dude sighed when he finally came to his side. "Don't I know it, my friend." He ruffed the top of the big dog's head as they neared the front door, picking up a couple of the bags on their way outside.

The air was cool. It slapped Dick in the face like the reality check he needed. Dude ran ahead, barreling through the leaves as his bark echoed through the empty woods. Dick noticed the flurry of wildlife, birds of all sizes squawked and cawed as they flew higher into the canopy. Squirrels tittered from branch to branch, then down to the roofs of the sheds. He looked around and found the best place to mount the camera, and with it in hand, he made his way to an old utility pole.

Do the job. It's just a job to her; it can be to you, too. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He repeated the word fuck like a mantra as he climbed the rungs on the pole. He had surmised that if it was really the locals messing with him, they'd more than likely go after the equipment. He was surprised they hadn't actually; when he thought really about it, it seemed curious.

He was distracted by what could only be described as 'happy dog'. Dick spied Dude rolling in the leaves, clumps of dirt and moss mottling his fur. He smiled before his eyes flicked back to the hotel, a sadness creeping in as wondered what Mac and Trent were doing. They had gone to the lodge when they got in, setting up the generators and hardwiring everything that needed a skilled hand. His mind drifted to what they probably already did—what he'd have already done if he had Mac alone in their rustic retreat.

He laughed at himself, and then he laughed even harder when he thought of Logan and his ridiculous abstinence ploy. When you get your lady-fair alone in such a scenic locale, and sexy times are imminent, you don't squander them because you hear a bump in the night. Only Logan would be that insecure about losing...well, Veronica, because he hadn't been too terribly torn up any time his other relationships ended. But there he was, risking a very uncomfortable set of blue balls (and one angry Veronica), because he thought this was too much like a Wes Craven film. What the actual fuck? He had it bad. And Dick had never in his life been sure of anything except that level of commitment? Love? Whatever it was, he wasn't sure he deserved it.

A malicious growl broke his train of thought. He scurried down the pole to find Dude—hackles raised, teeth bared—snarling at the bleak nothingness that surrounded them.

"Whoa, boy, take it easy. Nothing's there."

Dude's growl softened, but still he stood between Dick and whatever it was he had sensed. The hair on Dick's neck stood on end; he was overcome with the sensation that he'd just walked into cobwebs—he shook them off with vigor.

After a moment the feeling had passed. "It's all good, Dude, let's go back inside."

Dude pawed at the ground, whining as Dick made his way back. From the steps, he whistled and his dog ran toward him, a shadow billowing like a cloak behind him. Eyes wide, Dick hurried the dog inside, slamming the massive door behind him.

"Dick?" He heard Mac's worried voice carry down the stairs and he yelled to confirm it was him. He tried to reconcile the tone of her voice with every encounter they'd had recently. None of it added up. It never did with the two of them.

She was in front of him before he knew it. Her brow had fixed itself into a deep crease, and her skin looked ashen as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Mac, what happened?" he reached out to her, and when she made no move to stop him, slid one hand around her waist and the other behind her neck. Relishing in her nearness, he breathed her in. His own nerves that had just moments ago been jumbled knots, smoothed themselves out with her in his arms.

"I thought, I saw," she stammered.

Dick felt her stiffen slightly as realization dawned on her that she was willing in his embrace. She H pulled away abruptly, looking first at the ground, then at Trent, then back to Dick, her eyes brimming. He wouldn't dare think they were tears, certainly not for him; she had just seen something. Probably like he thought he did. All right, maybe Logan was on to something; the woods are fucked.

"Yeah, I saw...I don't really know what, but it was fucking weird." Dick tried to laugh but it fell flat. Mac nodded, and Dick looked back at Trent, who looked more amused than anything. Dick fought the urge to wipe that look off Trent's face.

"Kids, if we can please get back to business," Trent said smarmily.

Dick sneered and he was pretty sure Mac was biting back a smile, though he wasn't sure why.

"Fine, let's finish this. But together; I'm not leaving you," he said pointedly, his eyes locked on Mac. He watched Mac's throat as she swallowed, not able to get words around it, and for once she didn't protest.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, did everyone have a good time today?" Veronica asked cheerily, nursing a beer as they sat around the fire. She was met with a collective groan—and one very emphatic whimper from their canine companion. Her head bobbed in agreement while she tipped her bottle to the team. "Well, thank you, everyone, for helping us try to figure out what exactly is going on with this place."

Reagan snickered and tipped her bottle back, effectively emptying it.

Wallace shrugged, his head shaking in confusion. "Now that the work portion of our evening is complete, can we get to the fun?"

"Right? I was promised much fun, Bond, and I have yet to see it!" Mac added.

"Why, Q, I thought being a tech goddess by day and stealth badass at night was your idea of fun!"

"Ah, stealth badassery is clearly your forte, Veronica. I could play a game…" She nursed her beer and shared a conspiratorial look with Dick.

"Game, you say? What kind of game?" Veronica asked with a conspiratorial finger waggle.

Logan's groan made everybody laugh; she knew that they thought playing a game with her could sometimes be more chore than treat. So what if her skills, bolstered by her intensely competitive nature, bested their attempts at victory time and time again? She would play. She would win. Whatever it was.

"Something that's only prerequisite is acerbic wit." Mac flashed her dimple with along with a devious smile.

Dick grinned. "Or, natural predilection to assholery."

"Yes!" Reagan sat up and clapped her enthusiasm for the idea. "We're in!" Wallace shot her a kind of disapproving look that made Veronica wonder if she knew what she was getting herself into.

"CAH it is then," Veronica said in mock resignation. While it wasn't her favorite game, as it lacked any particular skill, it was certainly amusing.

Veronica started strong but after an about an hour Logan was winning. He always won when they played Cards Against Humanity. The pile of black cards on the chairs arm proved two things: One, Logan knew how to play the crowd, and two, his snark was probably the sexiest thing Veronica'd ever experienced. Every card that slipped from his hands was an exercise in laser-guided douchery, playing mercilessly on weakness.

Veronica, for instance, had nearly chosen his card at every turn. He knew exactly what cards to play against everyone, but her especially, having always won against her every time they played. Who doesn't agree that the answer—to any black-carded question—is free ice cream, yo, or how playing the all-new Nissan Pathfinder card while remembering in their deck back home he'd crossed out Pathfinder and scribbled in Xterra. Two points to Logan. And then a third when he played a particular card that called to a specific type of duties—the kind that pinked her cheeks and made him look at her sideways from under the long flutter of lashes. She couldn't help but sigh moonily.

It also seemed that Mac and Dick were having a similar unspoken conversation. Veronica picked up on some serious subtext in the cards they laid for each other. It became particularly amusing when (obviously) Dick played "Bullshit" on Mac's "How am I maintaining my relationship status?"

It did end up being actual fun, despite all of Veronica's reservations. The kind of fun that makes your face hurt from laughing—when you may have peed yourself a little, and you're pretty sure you're not the only one.

She looked down at her own collection of cards, now smaller, having won off Wallace only a couple of times, and once each off of Dick and Mac. Reagan, she couldn't get a bead on. For the second time that day Veronica felt like she was missing a very large piece of the puzzle, and she wasn't sure she liked it. There was no pattern to what Reagan would choose; nothing was all in the same vein of humor—or obscenity for that matter. The crass and crude seemed not to phase her at all. For that, Veronica could say she was impressed. If she could handle this crowd at their bawdiest, maybe her concerns were unfounded.

"You know; I think Lilly would have loved this game."

Logan kissed her temple and nodded his head. "She would have owned us all," he said wistfully.

"She'd have gone for the throat," Dick said over Dude's yawn, the dog's gigantic head sideways in Dick's lap.

Veronica smiled, rueful, and raised her glass slightly, eyes locked on Logan who did the same. They toasted a silent libation to their long lost friend and snuggled closer in the overstuffed armchair.

BOOM!

From somewhere unseen, a door slammed vehemently with a force she couldn't explain. It caused nearly the entire room to jump. Logan, however, sat ramrod straight, her head smacking into his unforgiving jaw.

She rubbed the top of her head and pulled herself from under him, but his attention seemed to be focused elsewhere. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to catch his eyes as they darted from the far window to the hallway.

"Well, I suppose this is one way to end a game. Clearly, we have a winner." Logan's attention gradually flitted back. He held his cards up with a triumphant flourish and smiled broadly, the one he used to distract people from looking too deep. She could feel her brows come together as she watched him.

"How's about we play a different game?" Mac's date asked. All eyes in the room landed on Trent, whose eyes twitched and gleamed almost maliciously, and didn't wither one iota under the collective power of their stare. "You guys have been friends forever—"

Wallace snorted, interrupting him.

"—or have at least known each other for a very long time." Trent quickly amended.

Reagan nodded in agreement. "He's kind of right. It'd be nice to get to know you all a little better."

"What did you have in mind?" Veronica questioned from her position curled at Logan's side. The more Reagan tried, the more suspicious Veronica seemed to get. And now she added Trent to her list of persons of interest. At first, Veronica thought there was something going on— or beginning to happen—between Mac and him, but the more she watched the interactions between Mac and Dick, she couldn't believe she had been oblivious for so long. Her teeth absentmindedly worried the skin on the side of her thumb. What else was she missing?

"The old standby, truth or dare?"

And as much as Veronica wanted to say no, she simply shrugged in acquiescence, allowing herself to melt even deeper in Logan's strong, steady embrace.

"Shall we?" Trent nodded tersely and turned his attention to... "Dick...truth or dare?" he asked with a sharp, raised brow.

Dick, looking completely at ease, took a long swig from his beer and cracked his neck dramatically. He stared at Trent. Veronica wasn't sure if Dick was trying to figure out what Mac saw in Trent or how he could systematically tear every inch of this man's life apart. And then she wondered if those two reasons were really one and the same. She peeked at Mac, whose face looked less than impressed, though her body language seemed to tell a different story. Veronica made a note to corner Mac later.

Dick finally met the challenge Mac's boyfriend had laid at his feet. "Dare."

"You know, you always seem to pick dare, Dick. Something you're afraid of sharing with the group?" Logan asked.

Though she couldn't see his face, Veronica was sure Logan's smirk stretched ear to ear, his teeth peeking between his lips, his soft, strong, magical...She sat up abruptly, pulling herself away from Logan in an attempt to quell the heat that seemed to radiate between them.

Dick Casablancas was a lot of things— great many of them terrible. But he was always, always a laugh. With no small amount of bravado, he took a shot of the Don Julio that had 'magically' appeared and leered back at Logan. "Bring it."

Trent cleared his throat, though whether in annoyance or intimidation, Veronica was unsure. Dick turned his gaze in his direction, waving him on with a disaffected flick. "I dare you to go outside."

The silence was sudden and deafening. Veronica looked at Logan, who wore the same confused expression, and then back toward Trent.

"That's it?" Dick said, unconvinced.

"Yep." Dick flinched as the 'P' popped loudly.

"Come on, Trent. You can— you have— to do better than that!" Mac looked embarrassed, head shaking as she snatched the bottle from Dick and downed a shot of her own. There was a moment between them...when their eyes met and Dick's mouth upturned at the side...when Logan nudged her because he'd seen it too. Well, I'll be damned.

Veronica leaned forward with a sigh and motioned for Mac to hand her the bottle.

"Ack!" she said as she swallowed with a grimace. She offered to Logan, who politely refused, then handed it to Reagan who took it gladly.

"No, he has to go outside. For at least half an hour." Trent paused for a moment and then his eyes widened. "Without his trusty canine sidekick."

"So, I have to go outside, for thirty minutes, without my dog? This is the easiest fucking dare I've had since seventh grade."

Logan tapped his finger against his chin. "Gee, what happened in seventh grade that would turn all your party games upside down?"

"No, we are not rehashing tales of my youthful indiscretions."

"You know, I do remember a sleepover at Meg Manning's where a very, very naked Dick Casablancas came up to the patio doors…" Veronica shuddered at the memory, everyone—including Dick—laughed. Grumbling, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door, followed by Dude and Mac and Trent, who stayed a few steps behind.

Veronica kissed Logan just below his ear, and in the quietest, surest voice she could muster said, "Truth or dare wasn't the only thing you turned on its head when you moved to Neptune."

She watched his eyes glow brighter with the fire-reflected flame licking around the iris, setting off that spot inside her that was reserved for him.

His hands cupped the sides of her face as he leaned in to kiss her. "I do seem to recall a few Seven Minutes in Heaven games that turned into more like twenty."

"No!" Wallace yelled before their lips could meet. "Not unless it's part of the game, and even then, no. No kissing."

"Aw shucks, Wally," Logan mock snapped, "I was really hoping Veronica would dare you to lay one on me." His eyebrows waggled suggestively.

"Oh damn, is it getting hot in here?" Reagan was busy hand-fanning as a pillow hit Logan square between his eyes.

"Keep it up, man. This couch is covered in pillows. I have an arsenal of fluff bombs; do not test me." Wallace admonished.

Veronica couldn't stop the bubble of laughter that spilled out of her at Wallace's finger wag. She was happy. She loved that her friends were finally getting along with Logan. Even better was that they genuinely seemed to like each other. She sighed, picking up the projectile and holding it close before snuggling back into Logan's side.

"Well, since I'm the other newb, I suppose it's my turn," Reagan said with decidedly less enthusiasm than Trent had. "Mac," who had just sat on the small loveseat—not next to Trent— looked up with the classic 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me?' "Relax. Now truth or dare?"

"Truth," Mac groaned.

Always pick dare, thought Veronica. Embarrass oneself or be faced with revealing pieces of your soul to a crowd? Hmm...tough choice.

"Have you seen anything out here yet that you couldn't explain?"

Mac's head whipped back so fast something had to have cracked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You're the tech guru, right? Nothing's shown up that's, maybe, beyond your ability to reason?"

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Logan felt his knee bouncing. He tried to stifle the curiosity that seemed to be leaking out of his extremities. He busied his fingers in Veronica's hair while he waited out Mac's answer.

The brunette shook her head and scoffed. "No, I haven't seen anything on a screen that I couldn't explain. Nor have any instruments sent back a reading that wasn't perfectly normal. Everything appears to be on the up and up," she smiled tightly, eyes looking past Trent to the door Dude still sat at.

No one spoke, the only sound for a moment was a whining dog and a sigh from Reagan.

"Fine, you saw nothing—" Reagan threw up her hands, defeated.

Logan couldn't help but deflate. He thought that maybe he wasn't the only one who had fallen under the spell the woods seemed to have cast.

"Ah, I said I didn't see anything digitally untoward, but me...yes, I think I saw something," Mac admitted.

Logan's eyes closed and stayed that way for a moment.

"Wait, what? Saw what?" Veronica shifted away from him, leaning in toward her friend. Logan opened his eyes to look at Mac too.

"I don't know what it was, Veronica. It was something—"

"It was nothing," Trent said, reaching out a hand and attempting to close it over Mac's knee.

She turned away abruptly, causing him to stumble forward. Dude was at Mac's side in an instant, creating a barrier between Trent and Mac, who now seemed to be spurning Trent's advances instead of playing on them.

Logan smiled to himself; maybe something good would come out of this vacation after all. Dick walks away from the Hellmouth and decides to invest in a nice place in Bali, and gets the girl? Stranger things have happened.

"It's okay, you don't need to explain. I just wanted to know if anyone who wasn't susceptible, would be affected by this place," Reagan tried.

Logan watched as all the eyes in the room locked on her.

"Susceptible? To what?" Veronica asked with an edge he hadn't heard in a long time.

"Just forget it." Resigned, Reagan fell against the back of the couch, and Wallace wrapped his arm around her. Veronica watched as Wallace whispered something in her ear, saying something that must have roused her. With a slight smile, Reagan sat back up. "Wallace wants me to tell you something. Maybe it can help you understand what I mean." She took a deep breath and explained that she was a witch.

Logan listened, fascinated, especially when she started to talk about what had been happening. "It's real," he breathed. Everything. What he'd seen. Heard. Felt. FUCK. What the hell did that say about him?

"It's not real, Logan. It's your overactive imagination, and the woods, and…"

"And what, Veronica? Why can't it be possible that all these incidents are something even more nefarious than people?"

"Well, one, because what you're alluding to does not exist. And two, there is nothing more nefarious than living, breathing, people," she reasoned, ticking her points out on her hand.

"I'm sorry, didn't you tell me once that it was Lilly's ghost that stopped you from getting on that bus?" he reminded her.

Her eyes widened angrily; the regret sat bitterly on his tongue before the words had left his mouth.

"I do not see ghosts, Logan."

"Okay, so how else do you explain it?"

"Hmm...stress, perhaps? Something about trying to cope with everything that had happened in the previous two years? Or maybe it was—" Her head shook vehemently. "You know what, no. We've had this conversation exactly one time for a reason, and I will NOT do it for an audience."

He looked pleadingly at her, shifting in the oversized chair so that he could face her better.

"Veron—"

"No." There was a finality in her eyes, which were suddenly cold and closed to him. She got up from the chair and grabbed the tequila off the table, taking a long, slow drag from the bottle. Then she stood up.

He watched her stalk out of the room, Mac and Reagan at her heels, and he dropped his head heavily to his hands.

"What was that all about?" Wallace asked, clearly exasperated that Logan had pissed Veronica off.

Logan groaned and sat back slowly. "Apparently, that was a landmine. Fuck me."

"Man, will you ever stop putting your foot in your mouth? Is that why they call you Mouth?"

Logan didn't want to listen anymore. He lobbed the pillow back at Wallace.

"Things were going so well, too. I really didn't think she'd react like that." Logan threw his head back against the chair, desperately trying to stave off the pain that threatened.

"Is this what happens when you talk about Lilly?"

"No, that wasn't a Lilly reaction." Logan's hand fluttered above him before landing back on his brow that had wrinkled in concern. "We just brought Lilly up an hour ago, and... you saw, it was fine. A little sad, but it passed. That…" he pointed emphatically in the direction of the kitchen. "I don't know what the fuck that was, Wallace."

"Tequila," Trent offered, then fell silent at Dude's growl. Logan rolled his eyes but didn't respond further. Dude came to his side, leaning his tall body against Logan's legs and forcing Logan's attention to the spot behind his ear. He missed Pony and suddenly wanted nothing more than to be back home. The dog made his move, jumping up into the chair and sitting on Logan's lap, licking the side of his face. "Ew, gross," Mac's friend cried, looking up from his tablet for a moment before his eyes locked back on the screen in front of him.

"Where the hell did Mac dig him up?" Wallace flicked his thumb in Trent's direction, which he met with a lewd gesticulation of his own.

Logan smirked, maybe Trent was more like them then he'd thought. A massive paw came down on Logan's chest, reminding him where his attention was supposed to be. He grabbed the dog and pulled him down, rubbing his belly with gusto as Dude relished his touch.

Something darted across the hall, catching Logan's eye as it slipped back into the shadow. He breathed in sharply and looked to Trent and Wallace to see if they had seen it too but Wallace was looking at him curiously, and Trent was still engrossed in his tablet, though it seemed he wore a bit more worry around his eyes than he had previously.

Logan swallowed hard and went back to petting Dude, trying to ease the feeling that kept settling in his bones. He looked back to the hallway; it was still empty, but the shadows reappeared. This time they seemed to be accompanied by corporeal counterparts.

His eyes locked with Veronica's as soon as she stepped into his line of sight. His heart was beating a rapid fire, percussive rhythm against his ribs as she approached. He was pretty sure that his relieved sigh was audible as he watched her face soften as the Great Dane was still precariously perched on his lap. A shy smile graced his lips as he pushed the dog off him, clearing the space for her to sit with a wave of his hand. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and made her way over, sitting on his lap rather than the chair, tucking her head under his chin as his hands ran up and down her back. He looked to Mac, who simply shrugged, clueless. Internally, he questioned everything. He needed to know what happened; questions queued in his mind, but looking down at her unusually vulnerable form, he quashed them. Instead, Logan held her tighter, breathing her in—committing to memory her softness, the way she seemed to be holding him as tightly as he held her.

"Are we going to talk about this?"

"Later." She nodded against his chest, fingertips ghosting the collar of his shirt.

His mind was still racing when he heard Wallace. "Everybody good now?"

There was a collective positive affirmation and the group settled back into easy conversation.

Logan watched Veronica closely. She seemed to have shaken whatever had set her off before; unless she was faking it which was highly probable. She was a master at saving face, after all. And that created an entirely different set of questions.

Veronica began animatedly telling Wallace and Reagan about something that happened in her law school years, but her eyes seemed to be missing their spark. Logan pursed his lips and watched Mac and Trent quietly—and tersely—having their own conversation in the opposite corner. His eyes narrowed on them, trying to read their lips but only gleaning something on the tablet must be the cause.

Dude, having grown tired of begging Logan's affection, glued himself to Mac's side. He moved with them, keeping a safe distance between her and Trent, as they excused themselves and walked toward the bedroom they were sharing.

Logan tried not to roll his eyes at Dude's pronounced attention to Mac, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He found his focus again just behind Veronica, who had finally torn her eyes away from the hallway as the bedroom door closed. He caught himself staring into the dark and seeing only stillness. He had been in pitch-black before. The heavy veil that slipped over the ship while it sat static on the atramentous ocean, stars burning desperately in the distance. But this...this felt so much more.

The more he tried to rationalize it away, the more he thought he saw. What had been a vague impression of the human form now seemed to have discernible edges. It shifted through opacity, becoming more and more solid before his eyes. He tried to shake it away, but the impression didn't leave him.

"It's okay if you see them," Reagan said quietly from behind him. "You're meant to."

Logan's head whipped around. "What? No... I'm not, what?"

"It's okay, Logan. These woods hold great power. Not everyone is lucky enough to feel it, though; you're more open than you know."

He saw the smile Veronica bit back as she patted his chest, her eyes narrowing on Mac and Trent, who had just reentered the room armed with several pieces of high-tech equipment he hadn't seen before.

"Speak for yourselves. Not all of us jump at every creaking branch," Wallace said proudly.

"Whatever, Papa Bear—" Veronica started but Mac cut her off.

"Logan, did you actually see something outside?"

"Uhh," he sought to find the right words but none seemed to accurately express what he thought he had or hadn't seen.

"Yes or no, Logan?" Her voice left no room for hesitation.

"What the fuck, Mac? I may have thought I saw something, but I couldn't say it was anything for certain. Why are you so bent about it? Ow!" He rubbed his thigh where Veronica's fist landed and looked at her in shock.

"We have to go get Dick. Now." Mac turned abruptly toward the door, taking purposeful steps with Dude at her side. Logan was off the chair before she got out of the room. Calling after her with no response, they caught up at the front door, Veronica, Wallace and Reagan behind him.

"Mac, what is wrong?" Veronica's voice was direct, imploring her friend to stop for a second and answer her.

"The monitors. There's some weird feedback we can't trace. It's not the cameras, and it's not the signal; there is nothing wrong with the setups back at the hotel and the other cabins. It's here."

Her voice bordered on frantic—very un-Mac-like—coming in short bursts of confused phrases. "Something is here. And Dick is out there." She was more deliberate now, as if she were assured that, despite their preparation and attempt to secure the property, something was going to thwart it. All their hard work tossed to the wayside.

Logan sighed, the darkness he'd been trying so hard to avoid enveloping him as he opened the door. "Let's go get him."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Remind me to just say no the next time you get asked to investigate things including, but not limited to, the woods, abandoned buildings, or Dick Casablancas," Veronica warned. Logan's arms snaked around her waist as their eyes met in the mirror. "Was he really just sitting in the car watching tv?"

He chuckled against her shoulder, his breath hot and prickly on her cool skin. "Of course he was. How none of us saw that coming is beyond me."

This time she laughed too, only to be overwhelmed by the silence that followed.

"Are we gonna talk about it now?"

Her eyes snapped back to his. She'd hoped he'd let it rest. At least until morning. Knowing that there was something wrong with communications at the cabin had already left her nerves frazzled, but having to reiterate the emotions she'd failed to control earlier wore on her in a way she wasn't sure she could handle.

"Logan, I don't…" She turned in his arms, placing her hands on either side of his chiseled chest.

"It wasn't because of Lilly. I mean, we've talked about Lilly...it's never been like that." He was worried, that was clear, but she still wasn't sure if she'd be able to tell him.

"No, it wasn't because you mentioned Lilly." His eyes implored her, burning through the anxiety that threatened. He was so open with her. It was as if she could see his heart literally on his sleeve, and she knew there was no fighting it. Not anymore. Her heart and head reconciled, she took a deep breath and started.

"That whole year, Logan. I look back and I wonder what the hell...who the hell I was."

"Veronica..." His hand slid under her chin, lifting her head gently to meet his eyes. "Get out of your head. That was a long, long time ago. You did what you had to do to survive, and while looking back, it may not be all sunshine and rainbows—" She snorted. "—it's part of what got you here...what got us here. And I don't know about you, but the fact that there's an 'us' is all that matters to me. I still don't know how my ghost Lilly comment brought all this on..."

"Just thinking about the bus crash. Meg...everything that came to light that year. It haunted me. Not in the ethereal way, but the physical, crushing, nightmare-induced insomnia kind of haunting. And I pushed away anyone and everyone who could have helped me because I was too scared of being perceived as weak! And if I'd admitted that yes, maybe, there was something fucking weird happening here, it'd be that same kind of weakness that I couldn't abide!" Her head fell against his chest as he whispered into her hair.

They stayed like that a while, relishing each other's warmth, taking the comfort the other was offering.

"Seems weird is an understatement," Logan murmured against the crown of her head.

"This all looked so cut and dry this morning." She groaned in annoyance. "Locals harassing potential buyers. Boom. But now, with the cell towers 'down' and something blocking our feeds, it seems way too high brow to be the work of yokels. Something else is happening here, but it's not ghosts, Logan."

"So you still think it's people?"

Veronica pulled away and raised a derisive brow. "It is most definitely people, Logan."

"Even with what you heard?"

She stepped out of his embrace and sat on the bed, head dropping to her hands. "What I heard was a more sensational ghost story than the one I failed to deliver."

"Maybe had you not tried to emulate 'Are You Afraid of the Dark?', it would have come off more sincere?"

"It's a campfire story, Logan, it's not meant to evoke empathy," she said with a tinge of exasperation.

"So a child, who clearly had serious mental health issues, killing their entire family and setting the world on fire to try and make sense of the voices in their head doesn't make you feel something? It's a hell of a lot worse than just assuming the dad did it, even though in our life, that's usually the case." He kicked at the empty space in front of him, shaking a resigned head and dropped to the mattress.

"It makes me feel a lot of things," her quiet voice broke. "This whole place is making me feel a lot of things and I don't particularly like it." She crawled up the bed and nestled into his side, her current most favorite spot on Earth.

"Speaking of feels, do you think maybe we can te—" Logan's voice was cut off by an earsplitting scream. From the stairs, Veronica heard the chorus of wails that echoed down the hallway. The scene they found as they reached the reached the bottom destroyed whatever brief peace they'd found.

"Oh my god." Veronica's hand flew to her mouth, the bile rising hot and fast in the back of her throat. Dude and Dick came up beside them. Dick was unable to hold his sick as he took in what lay at their feet. Logan was the only thing holding her up as more footsteps came from behind.

She felt the blood seep underfoot as she shifted closer to the floor.

"I need you to tell me what happened." Veronica took in the form of her friend, holding the inanimate body, tear-streaked face contorting with pain as they rocked, knowing nothing about what had transpired. Veronica kneeled down and placed a steadying hand on the shaking shoulder. She heard the frantic tapping on cell phone screens as Logan and Dick desperately tried to call for help. She looked at the scene before her, knowing what she had to do but unable to shake the fact that Reagan lay in a pool of crimson, her lifeless green eyes zeroed on Veronica.


End file.
